


Day 29: with food

by readbetweenthelions



Series: 30-day Kurotsukki Smut Challenge [29]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Shots, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1958340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbetweenthelions/pseuds/readbetweenthelions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ehhhh i’m not really into foodplay but i’ll tell you what i AM into: body shots. so here’s an au where kuroo’s a hot bartender and tsukishima is a hot dj and then some stuff happens. really important shoutout to the person who suggested this au, you did good work and i appreciate you</p>
    </blockquote>





	Day 29: with food

**Author's Note:**

> ehhhh i’m not really into foodplay but i’ll tell you what i AM into: body shots. so here’s an au where kuroo’s a hot bartender and tsukishima is a hot dj and then some stuff happens. really important shoutout to the person who suggested this au, you did good work and i appreciate you

Tsukishima steps away from the machinery of the DJ booth. He has it set to run a few songs without his interference, so that he can take a short break. He edges along the walls of the club, pushing past several groups and pairs of guys dancing. It’s a gay club. Not that he minds. Work is work, and it’s not exactly like Tsukishima is straight or anything anyway. He’s had his fair share of dances with men in clubs like this; dances, and other things. It’s not what he’s here for tonight, but he can’t help bringing those occasions to mind.

“Could I get some water, please?” Tsukishima calls to the man behind the bar as he steps up to it. The bartender’s got a kind of funny hairstyle, dark hair sticking up everywhere except where it falls in his face. He nods and fetches a glass of ice water, which he slides across the counter to Tsukishima.

“You look good up there,” the bartender says, leaning his forearms on the bar, looking across it at Tsukishima. He’s got a smile on his face and a decidedly devious look in his eyes as he scans Tsukishima from head to waist. “You look good down here, too.”

Tsukishima masks his expression of confusion behind his glass as he takes a long drink of water. Is this guy _hitting on him?_ Bartenders often do this to sell drinks, he knows, but Tsukishima isn’t buying. He’s working, and this guy knows it. By all accounts, it seems like earnest flirting. Tsukishima isn’t sure how to feel about it.

When he sets down his glass, Tsukishima gives the bartender his most unimpressed look. Admittedly, though, the guy is hot. He’s nearly Tsukishima’s height, which is something he isn’t used to. And he’s a little more muscular than Tsukishima is himself, as he can see under the bartender’s tight black V-neck. “Thanks, I guess,” Tsukishima says.

The bartender grins, holds out his hand for Tsukishima to shake it. “Kuroo Tetsurou,” he introduces himself.

Tsukishima looks at his hand suspiciously before shaking it. Kuroo, huh? Well. He might be cute, but Tsukishima has a job to do. He takes his hand away from Kuroo’s and drinks most of the rest of the water.

Kuroo is still watching him, eyes not only on Tsukishima’s face, but also on his body. He asks Tsukishima, “Do you like DJ-ing?”

What’s he playing at, asking Tsukishima if he likes being a DJ? It isn’t bad, but it’s not exactly a job you get famous for. Not more than locally, anyway. It’s not like he’s up here _making_ the music, just playing the right songs written by someone else. It’s certainly not what he wants to do for the rest of his life. It isn’t a _career_.

“Do you like bartending?” Tsukishima asks caustically. Working here serving drinks to the kind of people that frequent this place is as dead-end of a job as you can get, worse than DJ-ing.

Kuroo grins. “I love it,” he says.

Tsukishima watches Kuroo for a moment, processing his response. “It’s alright,” he says, in reply to Kuroo’s question, long after he’d asked it. “DJ-ing, I mean. I should get back to it.” He slides the now-empty water glass back towards Kuroo and stands from the barstool he’d been sitting at. He turns his back to Kuroo, facing towards the turntable and the stereo equipment on the other side of the room, and walks away.

“I didn’t get your name!” Kuroo calls after him. Tsukishima waves him off with one hand, already focused on getting back to work.

Tsukishima is only here for the first half of the night, from the time the club opened until midnight. There’ll be someone coming around then to replace him until closing time. Some nights he really likes this gig, enjoys playing music and likes the atmosphere of clubs like this; likes being responsible, if only in part, for that atmosphere. Tonight, though… he isn’t feeling it much. Tonight he’s not into the sticky, humid atmosphere and the loud bass around him and the play of the lights; not even with a hot bartender hitting on him. The night stretches, and it’s one of those where all this seriously feels like _work_.

Finally, the DJ for the second half of the night comes to replace him; a short guy with spiked-up dark hair. Tsukishima nods to him and gathers his things. He’ll get another drink of water before he heads out, and then he’s going to have a cigarette and catch a bus home. Tsukishima wends his way through the club to the bar. When Tsukishima catches Kuroo’s eye at the bar, he immediately crosses to attend to Tsukishima.

“Water,” Tsukishima requests.

“Nothing stronger?” Kuroo says. He’s already scooping ice into a cup. “You’re done for the night, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima says. He’d only been working here for the first half of the night, and his replacement had already taken over. After this drink of water, he’s heading home.

“I have an idea,” Kuroo says. He finally has the cup filled with water, and he leaves it on the bar and leans toward Tsukishima.

“Why don’t I like the sound of that?” Tsukishima says dryly. He has to reach far to grab the cup of ice water, but he brings it close and drinks deeply from it.

Kuroo laughs. “Hear me out,” he says. He gives a small pause to make sure Tsukishima is listening before he continues, with two simple words. “Body shots.”

Tsukishima narrows his eyes. Body shots? Well, it’s not like he has anything against them. They’re fine for other people, he supposes. “Okay?” Tsukishima says, not really certain where Kuroo is going with this train of thought.

“So you’ll let me, then?” Kuroo says, brightening. “Do one off you?”

Tsukishima nearly spits out the sip of water he’d just taken in surprise. “ _What?_ ” Tsukishima says. “When the hell did I say _that?_ ”

“Come on,” Kuroo urges. “It’s a spectacle. Makes people buy more drinks.”

Tsukishima isn’t sure it’s possible to turn his nose up at the prospect even more than he already has, but by some trick he manages it. “No way,” Tsukishima says. “And anyway, aren’t you working?”

“Oh,” Kuroo says, a sly grin on his face. “I’m off my shift in five minutes.”

“Kuroo, come on, _no_ ,” Tsukishima protests. He’s really serious about this. A guy like Kuroo, most everything was a joke. But he looks like he intends to follow through with this proposal. Tsukishima isn’t sure he’s comfortable with letting him.

“Please?”

Tsukishima is painfully aware of the way his heart is pounding in his throat and of the hot burning of his ears. “F-fine,” he says. “Fine, one shot. Then I need to leave.”

Kuroo’s grin spreads wide across his face, and his eyes are mischievous. The look lasts for only a moment before Kuroo turns and calls to another bartender at the other end of the bar. “ _Body shots!_ ”

There are whoops and whistles, and a crowd begins to gather, formed of people already sitting at the bar and others nearby who had heard Kuroo’s announcement. The other bartender, a small, mousy-haired guy, brings Kuroo a bottle of tequila. Kuroo turns back to Tsukishima in the midst of it all.

“Shirt _off_ ,” Kuroo insists. Tsukishima begins to protest, but Kuroo cuts him off, adding, “You just can’t do a proper body shot with the person’s shirt on.”

Tsukishima glares at Kuroo as he swallows his pride. He strips off his shirt, then pushes it at Kuroo, who leaves it in a safe place under the bar, with Tsukishima’s bag.

“You’ve got a nice body,” Kuroo says, a predatory sort of look in his eyes as he scans Tsukishima, from his face to his navel and then lower still.

“Tch,” Tsukishima says, rolling his eyes and looking away from Kuroo. Though if he hates it, why is he agreeing to do it in the first place? Tsukishima doesn’t have an answer for himself.

“On the bar,” Kuroo tells him. His smile is wily, even more than before, and _that’s_ as mortifying as the suggestion of climbing onto the bar half-naked. Tsukishima does as he’s told, however, and hops onto the bar, sitting with his feet hanging over the ground. Kuroo holds a lime wedge, but he doesn’t hand it to Tsukishima. Instead, he puts it in Tsukishima’s mouth himself. Tsukishima looks down at him with a scowl, the rind of the lime between his front teeth. The sour taste certainly doesn’t do anything to improve Tsukishima’s mood.

Kuroo licks his thumb, then drags it down Tsukishima’s neck to his collarbone, leaving a long, wet line on his skin. He tips Tsukishima’s head back and sprinkles salt, the thick flaky kind, onto the wet line of his saliva, letting the crystals stick to Tsukishima’s skin.

“Lay down,” Kuroo instructs him.

Carefully, Tsukishima lies flat on his back, keeping the salt in place. He shivers a tiny bit when he lies in cold rings of water left from condensation on people’s glasses that had since been cleared away. He lifts his head to watch Kuroo pour a shot of tequila into a tall shot glass. He keeps his eyes on Kuroo and flinches a little at the coldness of the shot glass when Kuroo sets it on his navel. Tsukishima breathes gently, trying not to spill the shot. He knows that rather than discouraging Kuroo, spilling tequila on himself would only rile him up more, make him think he could lick it off Tsukishima’s body in front of dozens of people in a crowded club. The idea is humiliating, enough to make him forget the inexplicable tingle of excitement that raises tiny goose bumps at the thought of Kuroo’s tongue licking alcohol from his body.

“Ready?” Kuroo says, though he’s speaking to the assembled crowd of drunken and excited people, and not to Tsukishima. Kuroo lets them shout and holler for a moment, even allows a few wolf-whistles, before sidling up to the bar next to Tsukishima. Tsukishima catches his eye as Kuroo bends a little over him. His expression is remarkably soft, and it distracts Tsukishima for a short moment. Why is he looking at him like that? Moments ago he’d been flirty, reckless, but now…

Tsukishima is soon brought back to the reality of the moment, though. With his tongue spread wide, Kuroo licks the salt from Tsukishima’s neck, the feeling a little scratchy from the salt crystals under the wetness of his tongue. Tsukishima squirms a little at the sensation. After he’s licked Tsukishima’s neck clean, Kuroo wastes no time moving to lean over Tsukishima’s stomach. Kuroo opens his mouth wide enough to fit around the lip of the shot glass, and keeps a hand on it to steady it as he tips his head back and takes the shot. He barely flinches at the strong taste, and before Tsukishima knows it, Kuroo’s lips are on his, kissing him, the lime wedge between their mouths. Tsukishima can taste the sourness of the lime even stronger when Kuroo bites into it and lets the juice run a little before sucking it away. The chain of events is overwhelming in itself, but Kuroo’s kiss, spiked with the sour taste of lime and the remnants of salt and tequila, nearly takes Tsukishima’s breath away. Time seems slow and the music far away, and Tsukishima feels a little dizzy, reeling from the sudden sensuality of it all.

It’s over all too soon, with Kuroo straightening, holding in his mouth the lime rind that he’d pulled from Tsukishima with his teeth. Kuroo smirks and holds up his hands, flaunting his accomplishment. Suddenly, the whole thing feels cheap again. Of course that kiss hadn’t mattered. It was a show, and it always had been. Tsukishima had just chosen to believe the lie for a split second. He should forget about it now.

Tsukishima sits up from the bar, swings is legs over it, and hops off. He lifts a hand to wipe away what’s left of Kuroo’s saliva on his neck. Then he leans close to Kuroo, who is still grinning triumphantly.

“You had your fun, Kuroo,” Tsukishima murmurs, just loud enough for Kuroo to hear. “I’m leaving now.”

“Call me Tetsurou,” Kuroo insists, whispering back.

Tsukishima pulls his shirt back on, ignoring the cheering still coming from the assembled crowd of people. Kuroo is taking his bows, and Tsukishima hopes to get out of here without having to join him. The sight of Kuroo winking at his coworkers, the other bartenders who had come to replace him after his shift, is the last thing Tsukishima sees before leaving the bar altogether. He needs to get away from the atmosphere of the bar and Kuroo and feeling of Kuroo’s tongue on his skin and Kuroo’s lips on his lips.

Tsukishima slips out of the club through the back door, the one for employees. It leaves him in an alley between buildings. The night outside is cool, especially compared to the suffocating humidity of the club. They’re in the middle of the city, so he couldn’t exactly describe the air as _fresh_ , but it’s better than the muddled scent of people’s sweat and breath and the tang of alcohol, the scents that had hung in the air in the club and in every club like it.

Tsukishima pulls a pack of cigarettes and his lighter from his bag, slips one cigarette out, and replaces the pack. Holding the cigarette loose between his lips, he flicks at the lighter, trying to get it to catch. It must be low on lighter fluid; the flame won’t spark up very easily.

Behind him, Tsukishima hears the sound of the door opening. Someone else comes out into the alley. Well, it’s not like that matters. It’s not like Tsukishima owns the place.

“Shouldn’t smoke,” Kuroo says. “It’s bad for you.”

At the sound of Kuroo’s voice, Tsukishima whips his head around. Seeing him, Tsukishima sighs. He turns away again, trying his lighter once more. “You know what else is bad for you?” Tsukishima says. He finally manages to get the cigarette lit, and draws the hand holding the lighter away from his face. “Tequila.”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “One shot never hurt anyone.”

Tsukishima takes a drag. “Neither did one cigarette.”

Kuroo makes a noise, wordlessly accusing Tsukishima of having had many more than one cigarette in his life. He’s right about that. But then, Kuroo has probably had more than a shot of tequila in his life, and that’s not to speak of other drinks he’s undoubtedly had. There’s silence between them for a few moments while Tsukishima smokes, though Tsukishima can hear music pounding from inside the club and the rush of cars out on the street and the hum of air conditioning units and streetlights and the neon signs of the club. Kuroo speaks first.

“I never did get your name.”

Tsukishima lets out a long, thin stream of smoke, blowing it up above his head at an angle. “It’s Kei.” Tsukishima says. Kuroo looks like he’s waiting for more, face serious, though maybe that’s a trick of the half-light in this alley. “Tsukishima Kei,” he adds. That’s only fair, that he gives Kuroo his full name. Kuroo had given him his, after all.

Kuroo moves to stand next to him, close enough that Tsukishima has to see him, watching from the corner of his eye. Tsukishima blows the next puff of smoke to his side, away from Kuroo.

“I’d like to get to know you better,” Kuroo says.

Tsukishima gives a short laugh, shakes his head, and takes another drag. “You say, after doing tequila shots off my body,” Tsukishima retorts.

“That might have been a little forward,” Kuroo confesses.

“You think?”

There’s silence for a moment. “Look,” Kuroo says eventually. “I don’t do this to just anyone. Really, I usually don’t. I like you. Would it really be so bad, being with me?”

“What are you trying to say?” Tsukishima asks.

“Come home with me,” Kuroo says. “I don’t want what happened in there to be the last thing you remember of me.”

Tsukishima scrubs the fingers of his free hand through his hair. Kuroo is good-looking, and though he’s been annoyingly persistent, Tsukishima can’t help but be attracted to him. He remembers Kuroo’s tongue on his neck and his lips tasting like tequila and lime. He tosses the last of his cigarette on the ground and grinds it with his heel to extinguish it.

“Alright,” he says, though he’s not sure why.

Kuroo’s eyebrows raise, though only slightly, as if he’s surprised to hear Tsukishima actually agree to this. “Alright,” Kuroo echoes. “Come on, then.”

Kuroo leads Tsukishima out of the alley and down the street, crossing in front of the bar and coming, finally, to a car that’s parallel parked in front of a small boutique (closed for business for the night, as late as it is now). It’s a small car, not expensive-looking, but well taken care of. The black paint shows little sign of dirt. Kuroo presses a button on the fob on his key ring and the car unlocks.

“You’re driving?” Tsukishima asks. He doesn’t mention the tequila again, but knows Kuroo will think of it, based on his tone.

Kuroo looks at him flatly. “It’s one shot. I’m not even buzzed.”

It still makes Tsukishima uncomfortable, but Kuroo watches him with clear eyes and his body steady and composed and thinks it’ll be alright, just this once. He climbs into Kuroo’s car.

The drive to Kuroo’s place is mostly silence. Tsukishima watches the streetlights zip past and gets himself lost in thought. Why is he doing this? Why is he going home with Kuroo? Could be that he’s horny after letting Kuroo lick salt from his body and lime juice from his lips. Might also be that he’s a little desperate, not having been fucked in a while. Or is it because of the way Kuroo had looked at him, just before he’d bent his neck to lick away the salt; that soft, longing, and very fleeting look in his eyes?

Kuroo pulls up in front of an apartment complex. The place isn’t upscale by any means, but it’s not run down. The sudden silence when Kuroo shuts off the engine is surprising.

“We’re here,” Kuroo says. They’re the first words he’s said the whole drive, a silence which had marked a change from his talkative, flirtatious attitude in the club. He gets out of the car and lets Tsukishima follow suit before heading towards one of the buildings, thumbing through his keys as he walks.

Kuroo unlocks the door of an apartment on the third floor and pushes it open. “Home sweet home,” Kuroo says, flicking on the light next to the door. They step inside, directly into the kitchen. The place isn’t anything special, just your standard apartment, fitting for a single guy like Kuroo. It’s not messy like some guys’ places, though. Tsukishima wonders if he should say something.

“It’s – ” Tsukishima starts to say.

“It’s just an apartment,” Kuroo interrupts. “You don’t have to compliment it.”

He’s standing close, having left his keys on the counter. He reaches out for Tsukishima, and Tsukishima lets him. Kuroo’s hands on his waist are warm through Tsukishima’s shirt, and Kuroo pulls him close. The length of their bodies press together, from thighs to hips to chest. It’s sort of nice, being like this with someone around his height. It’s not often Tsukishima finds people who aren’t significantly shorter than he is.

As close as they are, Tsukishima can smell Kuroo’s scent. He smells like the club, the scent of it sticking to his skin and hair as much as Tsukishima is certain it’s sticking to his own, but under it all he smells… good. Kuroo smells little bit like cinnamon body wash and a familiar brand of fabric softener, but mostly his skin has this sort of warm, sweet scent that reminds Tsukishima of the way girls’ rooms always smell; a scent he likes, but hasn’t smelled on a guy before. It’s a strange and unique combination.

“Do you want to, Kei?” Kuroo asks. His lips are close, so close to Tsukishima’s, and Tsukishima closes his eyes to let the moment wash over him. Kuroo’s breath tickles Tsukishima’s nose and Kuroo’s hands are on his hips and Tsukishima can feel his own pulse like waves all over his body.

“Yeah,” Tsukishima breathes, surprised at how much he really, _really_ does want to. He wants to kiss Kuroo, wants to touch him, wants to do _more_ than that. Kuroo leans forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips. It’s nothing like the kiss back in the club. This kiss is slow and gentle, and each of the moments between the small adjustments of their lips against each other’s stretch to what feels like forever. It’s soft and sweet and it takes Tsukishima’s breath right out of his lungs. He wants more. Kuroo’s hands slide up to hold Tsukishima by the back of his neck, and his lips part to allow Tsukishima in.

When Kuroo finally pulls away, he doesn’t go far. He lets their foreheads rest against each other, their noses alongside one another’s, their lips just far enough apart that they aren’t touching anymore. “Bedroom,” he says in a voice that’s half-whisper.

Tsukishima lets Kuroo lead him there, down the hall of his apartment. Though Kuroo doesn’t bother to turn on a light, Tsukishima can see that his room is decorated with a lot of dark-colored furniture and posters on the wall of bands he must like, some signed and some not. His bed is big and wide and covered in a thick black comforter; when Kuroo sits Tsukishima on it, it feels soft enough to sink into, the kind you have trouble getting out of in the morning. The décor is all but forgotten when Kuroo kisses him again, a little harder and more insistent this time.

It all feels a little surreal. It’s not that Tsukishima has never hooked up with someone like this before; he’s done this sort of thing plenty of times. But there’s something about Kuroo, maybe the way he grins or the way he kisses or the way he smells, but there’s definitely _something_ that makes this feel a little bit like a dream.

Kuroo stands above Tsukishima where he’s seated on the edge of Kuroo’s bed, kissing him with his hands on the curve of Tsukishima’s neck, a few fingers playing in the hair at his nape. Tsukishima raises his hands to rest on Kuroo’s hips, then lets his arms snake around his waist to hold Kuroo close to him. It’s the first time Tsukishima has touched _Kuroo_ , he realizes, instead of just Kuroo touching _him._

Kuroo pushes gently on Tsukishima’s shoulders, silently urging him to lie down on the bed. Tsukishima does, letting his head rest on Kuroo’s pillows, feeling the softness of the mattress beneath him. Kuroo wastes no time in climbing on top of him. He straddles Tsukishima and leans down to kiss him again.

“Mm,” Tsukishima says. It’s a small noise, but tinged with appreciation. It’s to let Kuroo know that he’s enjoying this, that he wants more… it’s the opposite of the signal he’d given Kuroo back in the club with a shot glass on his stomach, and he hopes Kuroo notices his change in attitude.

Kuroo’s lips leave Tsukishima’s, instead trailing down his jaw and the line of his neck to just above the collar of his shirt. The sensation is familiar there – Kuroo had licked salt from that place less than an hour ago. Tsukishima remembers it with a little twinge of embarrassment, but he ignores it and savors the feeling of Kuroo’s lips and tongue on his skin.

“You still taste like salt,” Kuroo says, lips close enough to raise prickling goose bumps Tsukishima’s skin as he speaks.

“Whose fault is that?” Tsukishima says peevishly. Kuroo’s mouth is already fixing on his neck again, sucking away the last of the taste.

After a few moments, Kuroo sits up. “Shirt off,” he demands, for the second time that night. Tsukishima obliges him, and the two of them both remove their shirts at the same time, tossing them in a heap next to the bed. When Kuroo leans down again, their skin rubs against each other, sticking with the light sweat on both their bodies.

Kuroo grinds his hips against Tsukishima’s. It makes Tsukishima groan into Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo does it again, moving his hips in a wide circle, pressing himself hard against Tsukishima’s crotch through the layers of fabric. It feels pleasurable enough that Tsukishima breaks away from Kuroo’s kiss with a wet smooching sound and looks down to where Kuroo is pushing against him for a second before tipping his head far back against the pillows. He’s growing hard already, though they’ve only been kissing and Kuroo’s grinding had only just started.

Kuroo continues grinding against him, his open mouth kissing and licking at the skin of Tsukishima’s collarbone. Tsukishima knows what comes next. He lifts a hand to his face, intending to remove his glasses before this goes any farther, but Kuroo catches it. “Leave your glasses on,” he says. “You look cute in them.”

“Cute,” Tsukishima echoes.

“Hot,” Kuroo corrects himself. “You look _really hot_ in them.”

With these words he bends to suck at Tsukishima’s skin again, and Tsukishima lets his arm relax back down onto the bed. He lets Kuroo kiss him and touch him and grind against him, lets Kuroo have free run of his body. It’s not so bad to give up a little control once in a while. So what if Kuroo wants him to leave his glasses on? He’ll definitely be able to see Kuroo’s face easier with them on. Tsukishima wonders if he’ll be able to see that look, the one Kuroo had given him just before the shot in the club. He thinks he’d like to see it again.

Kuroo gives a long thrust against Tsukishima’s pelvis and it forces a moan from Tsukishima’s throat. He can feel his heart thudding in his chest and sending tingling waves through his body with each beat. He can especially feel it below the waist, where his dick is getting hard in his jeans and where Kuroo just keeps rubbing, a bulging erection growing in his pants as well.

“Ahh, Kei…” Kuroo says, mouth centimeters from Tsukishima’s lips. “I want to…” He lets the rest hang in the air, letting Tsukishima grasp at so many possibilities he can’t pick which one is the most likely.

“How…?” Tsukishima whispers. _How do you want to do it? Tell me how you want to do it._

Kuroo sits back on his heels, leaving Tsukishima a little cold without the heat of his body. He trails a finger down Tsukishima’s sternum, licking his lips lightly, looking at Tsukishima with eyes that are heavy-lidded and seductive. “I’d like you to fuck me,” Kuroo says.

This catches Tsukishima off guard. Does he mean what Tsukishima thinks…?

“What do you – ?” Tsukishima asks, unable to really find the words to ask Kuroo to clarify.

Kuroo shrugs slightly. “You know, be inside me. Fuck me.”

Tsukishima looks up at Kuroo, searching his face for some kind of indication that he’s just fucking around again. He seems serious, though.

“Alright,” Tsukishima says. “Yeah. I will.”

Kuroo’s grin is wide, and he sets about freeing Tsukishima of his pants almost immediately. He fumbles with the button and zipper of Tsukishima’s jeans, then pushes both the pants and underwear down to Tsukishima’s knees. Tsukishima has to sit up to pull them off all the way (they fit tight to his calves, and to his whole legs, really) and he kisses Kuroo’s chest as he does so. Tsukishima is aware of his mostly-hard cock standing from his lap, and he feels a little self-conscious. But Kuroo presses him back onto the bed and looks down at him with wet, parted lips and his pants and underwear are slung low on his hips and he looks _sexy_ , Tsukishima can’t deny that he does. Kuroo slips out of his clothes as well and makes sure to push them away off the bed.

The two of them are, at last, fully naked. Kuroo still sits straddling Tsukishima. Kuroo has a nice cock, and Tsukishima can appreciate that. It curves just a little upwards and the head is a pleasant pink and Tsukishima wants to reach forward and touch it. He supposes he could at any time, really, but he waits. That’ll make it better for both of them when he finally does it.

Kuroo leans forward and Tsukishima’s breath halts for a moment when their dicks rub against each other. Kuroo is reaching off to the side of him for something. Tsukishima turns his head to investigate, and watches Kuroo pull a condom and a bottle of lube from his top drawer. Well, at least he’s prepared. When he sits up again, he hands both the lube and the condom to Tsukishima.

“You wanna get me prepped?” Kuroo asks. Tsukishima nods. He might never have wanted anything more.

Tsukishima has been on both the giving and receiving ends of this before, and though he’s a little more accustomed to receiving, he knows what he’s doing in this situation. He squeezes some of the lube onto his fingers and reaches around behind Kuroo to slip them between the cheeks of Kuroo’s ass.

“Mm,” Kuroo says, feeling Tsukishima’s fingers against his hole. He shuts his eyes and bites his lip, but his face looks excited rather than anxious. Tsukishima licks his lips and pushes a finger in, feeling the tightness of him. “Ahh…” Kuroo sighs, as if he were experiencing some great relief.

Tsukishima draws his finger in and out of Kuroo, pressing against the ring of muscle just inside to get him to relax. Kuroo leans down again, supporting himself on all fours over Tsukishima. This position makes it a little easier to fit a second finger into him, and Tsukishima does. Kuroo gives a long moan as it slides in, then lowers his face to fix his mouth on Tsukishima’s, kissing him with an demanding tongue. Tsukishima fingers him, trying to push as deep as he can, trying to find Kuroo’s most sensitive spots. Kuroo keeps his mouth on Tsukishima’s the whole time, with only small breaks to catch their breath or for Kuroo to let out a pleasured sigh.

“Mmn,” Kuroo eventually mumbles into Tsukishima’s mouth, just before pulling away from the kiss. “Ah – I’m ready. I want you…”

Tsukishima swallows against excess saliva in his mouth. His dick is still hard, both of theirs are, and he wants to fuck Kuroo and feel the tightness of him around more than just his fingers. Tsukishima adjusts his position, shifting up a little on the bed to get his hips underneath Kuroo’s. With his free hand, he reaches for the condom Kuroo had given him earlier. He opens the package with his teeth, then hands it to Kuroo to hold so he can remove the condom from its wrapper and roll it onto his cock. Kuroo discards the wrapper with a flick of his wrist and Tsukishima adjusts the latex a little bit before holding himself steady with his hand at the base of his cock.

With the fingers still inside Kuroo, Tsukishima stretches him open again, and guides his cock next to his fingers. He pushes the tip in slowly, with his fingers still in place. It pulls Kuroo open wide, stretching enough that it likely hurts a little, and it pushes a loud moan to spill from Kuroo’s open mouth. When he’s gotten enough of himself in, Tsukishima pulls his fingers out and lets Kuroo sit back and take his full length inside. Kuroo starts to move almost immediately, rocking his hips forward and back to fuck himself on Tsukishima’s cock.

“Kur – _Tetsurou_ ,” Tuskishima breathes. His fingers dig into the skin over Kuroo’s hip bones, holding onto him, anchoring himself to this. Kuroo rides him, slow and sensual, letting Tsukishima feel it along his entire length. Kuroo’s hands stroke Tsukishima’s chest, then travel from his ribs to the skin over his abdominal muscles. “You feel – so – good…”

“Yeah…” Kuroo says. It’s a sigh independent of anything Tsukishima had said. His eyes are closed, letting himself do everything by feel rather than sight. His sighing and moaning is a bit more pronounced than the hard but quiet breaths Tsukishima allows himself. Even in the darkness of the room, Tsukishima can see the flush of arousal on his cheeks.

Tsukishima looks down to where Kuroo’s cock is bobbing up and down with each long thrust of his hips. Tsukishima licks his lips and drops a hand from Kuroo’s waist to grab the bottle of lube from where it had lain next to them on the bed. He adds an amount of it to his palm, closes the bottle, and reaches down to hold Kuroo’s dick in his hand. Each thrust of Kuroo’s hips above him lets his cock push through Tsukishima’s slick fist.

“Kei – ” Kuroo gasps, the expression on his face tightening in response to the new stimulation.

“Do you like it, Tetsurou?” Tsukishima asks. He starts to move his hand as well, timing it with the movement of Kuroo’s hips, twisting his wrist a little as he works and now and then letting his fingers squeeze gently and play at the tip of his cock. Kuroo doesn’t manage any words in response to Tsukishima’s question, only a fierce nodding.

Kuroo’s movement had started off long and blissfully erotic, but his movements soon become frantic. Tsukishima thrusts into him, helping him reach deeper, more sensitive spots. He makes certain to rub his fingers on the best parts of Kuroo’s cock, letting his thumb run over the slit at the tip, around the ridge of the head, and down at the very base.

“Aah, fuck, Kei – ” Kuroo says, voice strained with arousal and barely-contained gasps. “Feels – so good – _fuck_ , yeah, like that – ”

Tsukishima watches him, his muscles shifting and standing out under his skin while he rides Tsukishima. He has an incredibly good body. Tsukishima wonders if he’s one of those people that spends hours in the gym each day, or if he’s naturally this cut and he only needs a bit of maintenance. Kuroo notices the way Tsukishima is watching, and looks down at him, a sheen of sweat on his face and chest.

“Hah,” Kuroo says, a breathless laugh. “You’re staring. Do I look good?”

There’s nothing to say but the truth. “Yeah,” Tsukishima says. “You look good, you look so good taking my cock…”

“Dirty!” Kuroo exclaims. “I _like_ it.”

Tsukishima reaches up with the hand that had been on Kuroo’s hip and cups his face, holding his palm over Kuroo’s jaw and his thumb on his cheek and the tips of his fingers brushing hair away from the shell of his ear. It’s a touch that might be a little too intimate for a one-night stand, but Tsukishima can’t resist it. Kuroo has a handsome face under that outlandish hairstyle. After a few seconds, Tsukishima brings his hand down to let his fingertips touch Kuroo’s lips. Kuroo leans his face forward ever so slightly and kisses them. The touch is candy-sweet and the tiny smooching noise Kuroo’s lips make gets Tsukishima’s heart to pound just a little faster. It lasts only for a small moment, then Tsukishima drops his hand to trace down the lines of Kuroo’s body, over the smooth skin and hard muscle of his neck and shoulders and chest and stomach.

Tsukishima thinks for a split second of changing positions, of having Kuroo ride him backwards instead, of fucking Kuroo from behind and letting his back arch as he throws his head back, or of pushing Kuroo’s face into the mattress and making him call out for more. Ultimately, Tsukishima doesn’t make a move to make any of those fantasies happen. He keeps a steady hand pumping Kuroo’s cock and keeps pace with the movement of Kuroo’s hips. He likes being able to see Kuroo’s face, eyebrows knitted in concentration and parted lips red and slick with spit from kissing.

“Kei, I’m – ” Kuroo gasps after several minutes of Tsukishima’s rhythmic thrusting and stroking, “I’m getting close – ahh, _fuck,_ make me come…”

Tsukishima wants to. He wants to watch Kuroo’s face when he comes. Tsukishima speeds up his hand on Kuroo’s cock, jerking him and pulling him closer to his climax. Kuroo’s words leave him entirely, replaced by strained, panting breaths and moans and whimpers. Kuroo gives a last, sweet _ahh_ as his hips jerk forward and his cock pulses and his cum spills down onto Tsukishima’s chest. Struggling for breath, Kuroo’s hands slip from where they had been touching Tsukishima’s ribs to support his weight with his hands on the bed on either side of Tsukishima’s body. The sight of Kuroo, completely unstrung, is enough to take Tsukishima’s breath away for what seems like the thousandth time that night.

Kuroo’s head clears a little bit and he sits up straighter, brings his hands to rest on his own thighs. He looks down at Tsukishima with heavy-lidded eyes and a small but exhilarated smile.

“Ah, let me – ” Kuroo says. With little other warning, he bends his back and lowers his face to Tsukishima’s chest. He licks his cum from Tsukishima’s skin the way he’d licked the salt, with a wide, flat tongue and breath hot as he moves. Tsukishima writhes under the touch, enjoying it perhaps a little too much. Kuroo doesn’t sit up before he swallows it.

“Come here,” Tsukishima says. He grips Kuroo by the shoulder, intending to pull him down into a kiss.

“What? No, I have cum in my mouth,” Kuroo protests. “What are you – ”

Tsukishima kisses him anyway, tasting the remnants of Kuroo’s cum on his tongue. Tsukishima makes sure to keep the even pace of his thrusting, but it’s probably more for his own benefit than for Kuroo’s. He’s getting close to his own climax, the heat of it collecting in his groin.

After breaking away from the kiss, Kuroo stays there on his hands and knees. He lets Tsukishima fuck him, knows Tsukishima still needs to get off and wants to let him do it his way. It takes a few more minutes for Tsukishima to get off, encouraged by the small moans from Kuroo as he fucks him past his orgasm. Tsukishima climaxes with a shuddering breath and a final, hard thrust into Kuroo, feeling hot fluids spilling around himself, contained by the condom. Kuroo has his fingers in Tsukishima’s hair and gripping hard at his scalp when he comes.

After Tsukishima has finished and his muscles have all relaxed, the two of them continue to lie there as they are. Kuroo’s fingers on Tsukishima’s scalp are much lighter now that the urgency has left the both of them and their skin is sticking together and Tsukishima’s hands encircling Kuroo’s waist grip loosely. Tsukishima’s dick is still in Kuroo’s ass though his erection is beginning to fade.  Tsukishima feels overheated, with his own body heat radiating and Kuroo’s only adding to it and their sweat pooling between them at every juncture of skin against skin.

“I’m going to pull out,” Tsukishima tells him after several moments. “It’ll make a mess if I don’t…”

“I don’t mind a mess,” Kuroo says, but lifts his ass a little to make it easier for Tsukishima to take his cock out. Tsukishima doesn’t exactly want to move from the position they’re in, but he has to sit up to remove the condom and tie it shut. Kuroo sits in his lap, watching him. Tsukishima leans over to drop the used condom in the trash, and Kuroo waits until Tsukishima has come back and laid his head back on the pillows before he swings his leg over Tsukishima and lies down next to him.

They lay side by side, flat on their backs and staring at the ceiling. One of Kuroo’s hands reaches over and rests on his forearm. It’s the most contact either of them are willing to make with each other just now, as they’re trying to let their bodies cool off after the exertion they’d just put out. Tsukishima can hear Kuroo’s panting breaths between his own.

Kuroo breaks the relative silence, turning his head towards Tsukishima on the pillow. “Did you like it?” Kuroo asks.

“Hmm?” Tsukishima replies. He hadn’t really been listening, caught in his own slow thoughts and the steadily-lifting fog of pleasure.

“Fucking me. Did you like it.”

“Oh.” Tsukishima pauses for a moment. “Yeah. I did. _Obviously_ I did.”

“You should listen to my suggestions from now on, then,” Kuroo says. “They only come out fun for you. For both of us, really.”

Tsukishima looks away. Kuroo’s suggestions. He still has complex feelings about the body shot, but the sex had definitely been good. And what does he mean, ‘from now on’?

“Me too,” Kuroo says. “I liked it too.”

Tsukishima doesn’t reply to this, only reaches out the hand closer to Kuroo to let his fingers brush Kuroo’s hip bone. His skin is warm under Tsukishima’s touch. The silence stretches again, but it’s nothing Tsukishima would call uncomfortable. Mostly, it’s just nice to have someone there, close enough to touch and feel their body heat, having been so intimate with them and it having left you both in the same exhausted but satisfied place.

“Should I go?” Tsukishima asks after a few minutes, voice loud in the darkness, though it hadn’t been louder than he would have normally spoken.

“You should stay,” Kuroo says. “Not like I have anywhere to be in the morning. We’re night people, you and me.”

He’s right about that, without a doubt. Tsukishima thinks about it for a moment, sleeping in a stranger’s bed. But Kuroo doesn’t feel like a stranger, even though they had just met a few hours ago – something about him feels comfortable, like puzzle pieces slotting together. That’s cliché, but sometimes there’s a reason those kinds of things are so often said, and it’s because the feeling is uncanny.

Their bodies have both cooled down, and Kuroo takes the opportunity to draw close to him. He wraps his arms around Tsukishima’s waist tight enough to hold his own elbows, hooks a leg around the farther of Tsukishima’s, and pushes a kiss to Tsukishima’s neck just below his jaw. Tsukishima puts an arm around Kuroo’s neck and holds him close. He can smell Kuroo’s scent strongly, and he inhales deeply, trying to memorize it. Tsukishima presses a kiss to the top of Kuroo’s head, nose tickled by his dark, unruly hair. Maybe this is a one-night stand, or maybe it’ll be something else someday. It feels like a beginning, and Tsukishima sort of hopes he’s right. Tsukishima will have to think about that at another time. For now, it’s good enough just to hold and be held and not have to think about things, for a while.


End file.
